Thank you to all who read this. And to Version01MMH-- glad you thought it was hot. NeroAnne-- nope, it's not Christian (and BTW, I love your pen name) and Renna33-- in due time will Jeffy get rescued (evil laughter).
Captive:
Chapter three/ 'Accomplice'Rated/ M; S, L
A hard pounding on the door nearly made Edge jump out of his skin. Coming from his evil thoughts he rose and went over to the door, caustiously. He peered through the peep-hole. Edge released the breath he was holding, his man was here, good. He opened the door.
"No one followed you?" Edge demanded.
"No. I was real careful. I made sure." Randy Orton walked past Edge and gazed around the living room.
Edge shut the door quickly behind his hired muscle.
"Tell me again; What's in this for me?" Randy stopped and turned to face Edge.
"I am paying you handsomly, Orton. Don't fuck this up for me. Our time together in Rated-RKO proves I can trust you for the right price. Under the right circumstances." Edge said wrinkling his nose.
Randy rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, but I want a little bit more than cash, man. If you, uh, know what I'm saying?" Randy smirked flexing his eyebrow at Edge.
"What the fuck are you on?"
Randy's smile faded. "C'mon, dude. I know that you're fucking him."
"Don't even think about touching him, Randy. He's mine," Edge pointed to himself, "Not yours." Edge poked Orton in the chest giving a ending to his warning.
"C'mon, Edge, just a blow job." Randy whined.
"You're fucking nuts." Edge handed Randy some money. "You'll get the rest when I see he's still here. He's upstairs. You know what to do incase of an emergency..."
"And emergency numbers are on the frige, and be sure and make sure he eats his vegies and washes behind his ears. Got it." Randy mocked.
"Don't be a smart-ass. At all costs keep him here. We don't want Jeffrey escaping. It wouldn't bode well for either of us. You got me?"
"Yeah, I got you." Randy rolled his eyes. He was still upset he wasn't getting laid.
"I fucking mean it, Orton. Don't fucking touch him. I'll know if you touch him and I will rip your dick off." Edge warned.
"Fine, man. Go. Have fun sleeping with Vickie." Orton smarted.
Edge grinned. It wasn't happy, more sarcastic and ironic.
"Have fun stroking your dick to thoughts of me and Jeffy." Edge shot Randy a look before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
Randy locked the door. The youngest World Heavyweight champion looked around the room, sighing in boredom. How did he get stuck babysitting for Edge? Oh, yeah, he remembers.. he didn't want to think about it right now. Randy looked up toward the stairs. Wouldn't hurt to go check on him. Make sure Jeff hadn't escaped. Randy adjusted his shirt collar as he made his way through the living room and up the stairs.
--xx--
Jeff groaned going in and out of consciousness. His head still hurt, his asshole still hurt, but there was something else going on south of him that was making that seem like the last of his problems. It felt wonderful to his body, but the part of him that was conscious made him feel nauseous. He realized he was laying on his back and his hands were above him. He tried to move them, but they were stuck. He knew this sensation, he recognized the sounds. Someone was pleasuring him orally.
"Please... stop.." he groaned groggily, half in and half out of sleep.
But it felt so good. He felt two hands running palm down from his crotch up to his stomach and chest. They were strong, but smooth. He tensed up feeling his body jerk under sudden, unexpected waves of climax, grunting softly as he did so. The room was still spinning. From the drug or the orgasm? Jeff wasn't sure which. Then his senses came back to him as he snapped out of his sleepy state. Shame replaced all else.
Jeff's eyes were still shut, he wasn't sure he wanted to open them. He felt his pants being refacened.
"Consider it a favor." a rich, thick voice said.
His heart nearly stopped. Oh, no, he didn't need two psychos torturing him. One was enough.
Jeff opened his green eyes. Orton. Fucking Randy Orton.
"Randy?" That's when Jeff noticed his hands were cuffed above him to the bedrailing.
"You were expecting Santa?" Randy quipped wiping his mouth.
Jeff opened his mouth to speak. He felt really dirty that that bastard had made him come.
"Don't ask questions, Jeff. You don't need to know. You don't deserve answers. Just be thankful you're still alive." Randy stood at the foot of the bed, silhouetted by what moonlight that escaped into the room from the window. The man was the perfect picture of evil and sinister.
"Please, Randy, let me go. You'll be a hero. Edge will go to jail. You don't wanna aid in the sycophant's actions, Randy. You're too young..."
"Stop it, okay. Edge has done great things for me. He needed a favor, he offered to pay me well, I said 'yes'."
Obviously reasoning with Orton wasn't the solution. Orton was a lackey anyway. Always doing whatever Edge told him.
"But?" Jeff motioned down with his eyes, saying it and acknowledging it weren't that easy.
"Oh. You were just too cute to not do anything to." Randy ran his fingertips up Jeff's exposed chest and stomach where his shirt was still pulled up.
Jeff tensed up under Randy's touch. Whose to say he wouldn't want the 'favor' paid back?
"What about these?" Jeff said motioning up to the handcuffs.
"Thought you'd be more comfortable. I'm not half the monster Edge is, trust me, Hardy." Randy said as he circled Jeff's belly button with his middle finger. He didn't care that Jeff was uneasy. "You'll wanna stay on my good side."
Randy winked and smirked at him before he pulled Jeff's shirt down. He turned to leave, but stopped.
"By the way... don't mention that to Edge. For your sake and mine."
Jeff swallowed and shook his head 'no'. Like he had any intentions of telling Edge that he came in Orton's mouth. He watched as Randy pulled the door closed behind him then collasped back on to the pillow. Seems all he could do now is wait this shit out. Matt will find him, he knows he will.
--xx--
(The next morning-- Saturday, December 20, 2008)
Matt held the cell phone to his ear, trying to get a hold of Jeff, again. He listened as the ring back tone rattled on. Then he got Jeff's voicemail. He listened through the crazy message, and Jeff hollering about being the WWE champion. Matt rolled his eyes, impatience written all over his face.
"Jeff, this is Matt. You're late for your covershoot, bro. Vince isn't happy about it. He wants you to get your ass to the studio pronto. Call me back."
Matt hung up. He sat behind the wheel of the rental car resting his arms folded on the steering wheel. He looked at the clock on the car radio, then his watch, then the one on his phone. It was eight a.m. He tapped his fingers wildly on the wheel.
"Shit, Jeff, we are not gonna do this shit again."
He redialed the number and relistened through the nonsense.
Voicemail.
Nonsense.
"Jeffrey Nero Hardy! This is your brother, pick up the goddamn phone. If you screw this up, Jeff, I'm gonna kick your ass so bad. You hear me, Jeff? Call me back!"
Matt slammed shut the phone. He tossed it in the empty passenger seat beside him. He gripped the wheel tightly with both hands as he banged his head down on it.
Then the phone rang.
Matt looked up and quickly picked it up and flipped it open.
"Jeff?"
His hope turned sour.
"Oh, hello, Mr. McMahon."
He listened to the voice on the other end.
"No, I don't know where Jeff is. I didn't see him after the show. He left. He maybe went home. I'm heading to the airport now..."
Vince ranted.
"I know he was supposed to be in Stamford at six a.m. I really don't know where he is."
Vince rattled, Matt listened quietly.
"I'll be sure to strangle him when I see him."
Matt was thankful his boss didn't see him rolling his eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. McMahon.."
Or making 'blah blah blah' motions with his mouth.
"Yes, sir. Good-bye, sir."
Matt hung up. Jeff was so dead. He started the engine. The plane ride was hell. He had tried Jeff twice more before even getting to the airport leaving angry messages.
Now Matt was driving to Jeff's house in Cameron. It looked deserted. Matt pulled in the driveway and got out. He went up and knocked on the door.
No answer.
"Jeffrey, it's Matty, come on, now!" Matt called frustrated.
He got out his spare key and opened the door. The house was quiet.
"Jeff?" Matt called.
Silence.
Matt didn't feel right for some reason. He searched the house and all outside. Jeff was nowhere to be found. He tried calling again.
Voicemail.
"Listen, Jeff, if this is a joke, it's a sick one and I am going to kill you. Do you hear me, Jeff? I am going to kill you. This disappearing act is not funny." Matt hung up.
He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He tried calling their dad. Jeff hadn't called him either, or had he been there. Matt assured Gil not to worry though. He didn't tell him they couldn't find Jeff.
Matt was becoming desperate. He called Shane Helms, he called Shannon Moore, he called a few more people. No one had seen, or heard from Jeff Hardy since after last night. He started calling wrestlers they both knew, especially ones from the Smackdown or ECW taping. No one had saw Jeff since he had left the arena last night.
Matt wanted to yank his hair out in frustration. This was too odd, even for Jeff.
Reluctantly he called Vince to inform him that he could not locate his brother at the moment. Vince wasn't pleased and began to rant. Matt feigned static and hung up.
He contemplated calling Vickie, or Edge, maybe Vladimir, or Show, or even Triple H. He knew that even if they did know, they probably wouldn't tell him.
He dialed anyway.
"Hello, Hunter? You haven't seen Jeff have you?"
"Jeff who? Who is this?" Hunter smarted.
"You know who this is." Matt tapped his foot, he was in no mood.
"No." Trip shook his head.
"It's Matt Hardy, the Sensei of Mattitude, he who will not die!" Matt's voice was a frantic combination of frustration and sarcasm.
"Oh. Ohhh, he who hates mustard." Hunter laughed.
"That'd be he." Matt sighed. Such an ass.
"Nope. I haven't see him. Why?"
"No reason. Just can't locate him at the time being." Matt rubbed his pointer finger and his thumb across his forehead.
"Really? Can I help?"
"No, I'm sure I'll find him. He is the WWE champion after all, how far could he have went?" Matt took the opportunity to rub Hunter's king-sized nose in it.
"Yeah, how far? Good luck with that. Call me if I can help." Hunter hung up before Matt could respond.
He was not calling the other slimeballs of the locker room.
Poor, Matty. Okay, I wrote this before Royal Rumble '09. No, Tripsy isn't behind any of it. He was just being an asshole. And no, Matt is not gonna turn on his brother!! As far as Randy... I'm not divulging all of his role yet. He's very vital. He is not ashamed to admit he's attracted to Jeff, at least not around everyone (hey, it's just fanfiction). And I don't think a guy giving another guy a blow job is degrading if he wants to do it. Hey, if I had Jeff Hardy handcuffed to my bed... he'd be too cute for me to resist either. And for the record, I love Rated-RKO and I loved when they were dirty-- I don't know why, they were just hot. Doesn't mean I didn't love E&C... but, I like Christian better when he's good. Tell me what U think, even if you wanna rip my eyes out. I'd understand, writing this has even made me squirm.. but in a good way ;)